


Lovesick Teenagers

by Elmbird



Series: Pound for Pound [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, Gay Billy Hargrove, Internalized Homophobia, Leaving Home, Love, M/M, POV Billy Hargrove, Period-Typical Homophobia, Top Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elmbird/pseuds/Elmbird
Summary: -----                                                                                              -----Billy's got to figure himself out.  A rough day leads to clarity and a future.-----                                                                                              -----
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Series: Pound for Pound [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781461
Comments: 12
Kudos: 142





	1. Lovesick Teenagers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all 
> 
> This is going to be a little two part story about Steve and Billy's next step. It is a continuation of another story of mine, This is Real but it can be read as a stand alone piece.

The summer sun drags hot across the cloudless blue sky, give it an hour and the back of the Byers' house will be baking in the heat, for now the back cement steps are shaded.

There is an energy running under Billy’s skin, the kind that puts him on edge and can make him mean, one leg bounces, the sole of his shoe hitting the step in a jagged rhythm. He shakes his pack of smokes in frustration as he counts the filtered tips. Maxine has been on his ass about the amount he smokes. Last week she mouthed off at him, _You know they call them cancer sticks for a reason?_ He told her to mind her own business. The next day he found her green in the face, trying for tough as she smoked one, _What? I’m just following your example._ She made her point. He picked this pack up on Monday, wanted to make it last a week, it’s Saturday and he’s down to four.

Self-control and Billy have never been the best of friends. They are on better terms than they were before but they still have their issues. The problem is impulsive and impatient are high up on the list of his character traits. In the last year some other things might have moved higher up on the list than those two but they still rank in the top ten. He rolls his shoulders and pops his neck trying to work out some of the tension that’s built up in his body. He looks down past the pack of smokes in hand to his converse. The white rubber tipped shoes are smeared with bright green grass stains. This summer has been good, he wouldn’t trade it for every beach in California. That’s what he needs to focus on… 

Behind Billy the sound of people coming into the kitchen catches his attention. He snaps his head around so fast his earring taps his cheek. From his spot on the steps there is a view into the kitchen through the partially left open backdoor.

He came out back for more than a smoke, needing a break from the commotion out front. Maxine’s little friends are in a good mood that has trespassed into the territory of grating on his nerves. Sweat makes the cut off t-shirt he has on cling to his back, the little bit of material still too much.

Billy holds his unlit smoke between pinched fingers, he doesn’t make a move to light it, instead tilts his head to get a better view. It’s the Chief and Mrs. Byers. 

“I’m fed up, Joyce! Everywhere I look there are lovesick teenagers. The longer this summer stretches out the worst it’s getting. It’s like a plague.” Hopper grinds out the words between gritted teeth and continues on stressing his point. “I caught Max and Lucas kissing in the kitchen earlier this afternoon.” He points to the floor like Mrs. Byers would be confused to which kitchen he was talking about. Billy can tell from her strained smile she’s not. 

He goes on working himself up, huffing as he paces, “Henderson’s girlfriend calls him _Dustybuns,_ which I did _not_ need to know and the three inch rule is turning into an all out war…”

It’s the whole gang of kids including him and Steve that are over. He pulled up in the Camaro with Max in tow to find the rest of the little shitheads spread out on the covered front porch. The kids greeted each other like it had been years since they had last all seen each other and not the night before at the fucking arcade.

In the direct sun the heat of the summer day threatened to steal everyone’s appetite, the covered porch was a reasonable solution. They lounged while eating hotdogs fresh from the grill and sides of cold pasta and potato salad as they talked over each other. Music from a dinky portable radio hummed away adding to the noise.

School starts at the end of this month. The scales have tipped, summer is no longer endless, the days until it’s over are a countdown. The air buzzes with it. 

He caught Steve’s attention before he left the porch, got a weary half smile from him and a tight nod. On days like this, with their bright shine Billy can see the honey gold and amber green flecks in those eyes. There’s never been anything prettier. Billy has a hard time staying away from Steve, that thing called self-control has never held up when the dark haired boy is around. Billy get greedy for him. Something that’s already gotten them in deep shit today. Making Billy’s stomach sourer, causing him to loose his appetite before the hotdogs even hit the grill 

It was just going to be a quick cigarette just the two of them around back while the grill got going. Billy had been resting up against the house with an arm wrapped around Steve, who was leaning back against him. They had been comfortable, lazy and hot.

With one hand Billy had played with the hem of Steve’s shirt, moved it up, fingers tips brushed at mole dotted skin while the other held a cigarette, alternated from bring it up to his own lips to holding it to pretty boy’s, letting him take drags from it too. The summer breeze pulled the smoke up and away from them, made the uncut grass brush their exposed ankles. Sweat had dampened their shirts where Steve’s back pressed to Billy chest. They must have made a real pretty picture. Billy sneers at the memory, at how easy it had felt in the moment. 

Hopper.

Hopper came out of nowhere, stood frozen at the edge of the house, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, hands half way up, about to light it. Brows furrowed together with his face frozen in a scowl. Nothing about his state matched his Hawaiian shirt. There had been nothing breezy about it. The Chief must have had the same idea, take a smoke break while charcoal did its thing and the shitheads argued about what to listen to on the radio. 

The taste of dread had been ripe in Billy’s mouth. It had been a minute since he tasted that flavor, with Neil gone he had forgot how palatable is was. Use to taste it with the anticipation of a beating. Steve’s body went just as rigid as his. Billy didn’t need to see his face to know that those pretty eyes had gone big with a caught in the headlights look. He knows that Steve had been able to feel his heart’s pounding a rhythm against his back. The Chief stared back at them with eyes just as big, the size of saucers, an eyelid twitched.

They don’t - - they’re just careful. Period. He doesn’t kid himself, knows it’s not lost on the nerds that something is going on between him and Harrington, still they never advertise it. Not in this bumfuck town. Billy’s necklace that Steve wears is the biggest tell but even that stays safely tucked underneath his shirt, lost in the dark chest hair that he seems to have sprouted over night.

If the Chief hadn’t of basically run his dad out of town he would be the kind of guy Neil would have a hard-on for. Would point out Hopper on the street or bring him up at dinner time and say some shit about that’s what a man ought to be. Would go on about the army vet turned family man, upholder of social order. Would make sure Billy knew good men like the Chief hated fags.

Billy expected Hopper to be like his dad. Why wouldn’t he? Billy has learned they are nothing a like but he still has a hard time separating them. Could be the military background the two men have in common… 

The Chief and Mrs. Byers still haven’t caught sight of him. From where they are in the kitchen, his seat on the cement steps keeping him lower than eye level. They come in and out of view from his vantage point, their conversation continues to carries through the half opened door.Billy sees Mrs. Byers give the Chief a look that is caught between a smile and a frown.

“First off you can’t parent someone else’s kid. Honestly, Hop - I think you’re - you know - blowing it out of proportion.” She says with a shrug like it’s the obvious answer.

The Chief is clearly annoyed. “Out of proportion? You think I’m blowing this out of proportion?I caught the _boys_ getting handsy out back, all _lovey-dovey._ ”

Billy’s mouth goes dry. The energy humming under his skin turns up to a deafening volume but he can’t leave - he has to hear all of it.

“Hop!”

“Like I said, every where I turn, lovesick teenagers are running amuck. You know what? Just you wait until Will starts dating. Oh, and I saw Jonathan’s car at the quarry last week after sun down. You want to tell me what you think he was doing there that late?” He bends down and squints while saying it, like he’s making a point.

With a tired sigh Mrs. Byers shots back, “The same thing we were doing down at the quarry at that time of night when we were their age.” She throws a hand up while shoving an avocado green container back into the refrigerator. “Remember being their age?”

The Chief grumbles. “I try not to think that far back.”

“Speak for yourself, but it’s not that far back, we’re not _that old_.” She scoffs at him and shoos him out of her way and out of Billy’s line of sight.

“You promised watermelon.” The softer voice of El’s cuts through the commotion. Billy can’t see her, but she has come around enough that he’s learned to listen for her quiet voice and delayed way of speaking. 

Mrs Byers recovers quickly “Got it right here….”

Billy turns away and looks out over the wild back yard. _Lovesick teenagers_. That’s fucking it? Billy’s aware of the weight on his shoulders, it’s been there for a long time. He has carried it for so long that he got use to how heavy it is. According to Neil, a real man, a man who is respected and respectable would look at Billy and call him a queer and maybe crack his skull in for getting handsy with another guy and he would maybe deserve it.

The Chief bunched him and Harrington in with the rest of the snot nosed kids. Just a couple of lovesick teenagers, that he’s at his wits end with. Billy’s not fuming at being lumped in with Maxine and all her little nerd friends, mind just keeps going back to being called a lovesick teenager. Not a faggot or a fairy… His dad has always been so full of shit, most of his truths have turned out to be a lies. Billy doesn’t know why he’s struggling with this one. Why his mind is stuck in disbelief that a man like Hopper would look….

The creak of the backdoor has Billy’s body jerking in surprise, muscles going tense. 

“Oh!” Joyce startles, one hand over her heart, the other one holding her pack of smokes in a tight grip. She takes a beep breath before she speaks,“I didn’t see you there, honey.”She maneuvers the back door closed and sits on the top step with Billy before he can find as excuse to leave.

“How long have you been out here?” She questions voice still high with surprise as she gets comfortable on the step. Billy works on forming an answer that will get him out of this situation, absentmindedly spins his lighter between his fingers as his minds searches for words, this is one of the rare times he is at a loss for them. She catches on, a knowing smile spreading on her face. Billy looks away and finally lights up. “Oh, I see.” She says while lighting her own cigarette. After she takes a drag she continues on. “Hopper’s having hard time adjusting to El being a teenager.”

He hears what she says but his mind skips to how the Chief told her about him and Harrington getting handy with each other - _all lovey-dovey_ , “We don’t do anything around the kids, ma’am.”He grimaces at his own use of the word ma’am. Sir and ma’am had been taught to him with the hard slap of Neil’s hand. 

There is a pause before she speaks where she just looks at him, makes him feel young. “I’m not worried about what the kids see.” She tilts her head and waves a hand, the annoyance from her conversation with Hopper carries through still coloring her mood. She seems to notice it, takes a long drag on her cigarette. 

“All of Will’s friend are pairing off. Mike has El, your sister and Lucas seem to be back on, even Dustin has his radio girlfriend.” She huffs out an amused breath before continuing on,“I hope I’m not stepping on any toes by saying I think it’s nice for Will to see you and Steve together. It’s good for him to know that finding someone doesn’t have to look one way.”

The smile on her face is the definition of what a mother’s smile should be, it radiates warmth. He cracks under it, just fucking folds.

“We’re moving to Chicago at the start of next year.” He takes a hard drag, pulls smoke into his lungs. It’s not the truth but it’s also not a lie. Licks over his teeth as he blows the smoke out. Steve has talked about it. Billy’s been holding out on says yes. He hates this bumfuck town but him and Steve, what they have works here. How does it work once they leave? Right now they are big fish in a small pond. 

Her warm smiles grows. Billy can’t help thinking she’d be looker if she did something with her hair, not that the Chief seems to minds. “That’s real nice to hear. I have to admit I thought you would have been itching to get back to California.” 

Billy stopped thinking of California as home once he realized that most his memories of it are garbage, like a beach covered in trash. Even the nice ones turned bitter at the end. It’s a time and a place. He doesn’t want to build a life with Steve on top of all that shit. He simple says “Steve doesn’t strike me as a west coast type of guy.”

Mrs. Byers makes a little noise like somethings caught her attention. She turns to lean in little closer to Billy, brow creased, having gone suddenly very serious. “Will- he hasn’t said anything to me. I just - it’s a mother’s intuition. Has he said anything to you?”

Billy shifts on the step, the cotton of his shorts catching on the cement. The question is well meaning but it makes him uncomfortable all the the same.“Can’t say that he has.” It’s not his place to say anything more than that.

She nods considering his answer and then after beat adds. “If he does maybe you could mention that he can talk to me…. but you know maybe not mention this conversation.”With the hand holding her cigarette she motions between the two of them, the smoke makes a zig-zag.

Billy drives out past the cow pastures out into rolling farmland, has found the winding roads are endless, that the Camaro takes their curves with an ease that is all sort of satisfying. Out this way the wheat stands tall, a vibrant green swaying back and forth in the wind. Steve explained it doesn’t turn gold until later. So it’s just Billy, the Camaro and a sea of rolling green waves. 

Billy took off hours ago left Steve back at the Byers house. Steve had looked half annoyed and half understanding that something was eating away at him and he need to go.

The Chief and Mrs. Byers were a one-two punch. In a way they got Billy bleeding. He felt almost violent, like the only way to get past the feelings coursing in his body would be to throw a punch. It had been awhile since he’s felt that way.

When his mom jumped ship she never looked back, stopped call within a couple months of being gone and from the moment she left Neil tried his hardest to beat the queer out of him. His two bookend of the day? One called him a lovesick teenager while the other sought out his comradery to help keep an eye on her fruit loop of a son. Fucking peachy, real peachy. 

The icing on the cake, is last week Billy met Steve’s mom, Mrs. Joan Harrington. The first time they laid eyes on each other she was in a sleeveless polo dress with smart shoes to match, hair effortlessly pinned up while he looked like the pool boy who was quickly going nowhere. With his lifeguard gear still on he smelled of chlorine and baked on sweat, curly hair longer than it had ever been and frizzy from a day of work.

He was in her kitchen leaning up against the counter, eating his fill of ice cream like he owned the place. For a the better part of the summer he had been letting himself into the house with the set of keys Harrington had given to him.

She recovered from the the surprise of him being there with grace, had smiled politely as she held out her hand to him, gold bracelet sliding on her slim wrist. _You must be Billy. It is very nice to finally meet you. I am sorry it has taken this long._

He had to dig deep for his charm, fought for the self-confidence the surprise of meeting her had taken from him. Had to shake off the anger he felt at himself for being caught unaware, had to make sure it didn’t seep into his features. This was Steve’s mom, Billy felt like he had something to prove. _Mrs. Harrington. It’s very nice to meet you as well,_ he purred just short of flirting.

_Please, call me Joan._

Billy stops drumming along to the Black Sabbath song blasting to check his watch. It’s getting later by the minute and the sun it going to be hitting the horizon soon. The winding roads that are taking him farther away from Hawkins - from pretty boy, are starting to loose their appeal.

Joan knows about him and Steve. Has know from almost the very beginning and has never threaten to disinherit Steve. Billy has to wonder, doesn’t she understand that she’s not going to get any grandkids with Billy’s dick up Steve’s ass? No prim daughter-in-law to show off to her friends at the country club. Maybe she doesn’t care. 

Choices, fucking choices. Billy’s been trying to make better ones, doesn’t need to be reckless like he was. With Neil out of the picture for good there’s no excuse to give into the rage. Harrington is the best choice Billy’s ever made. This drive is just too cool off, to catch up to his thoughts and when he makes it back to Steve be the kind of guy he wants to be with him. Being that guy, sometimes it’s hard, sometimes not.

Castle Harrington comes into view, tonight is one of the rare nights that Billy will actually park in the driveway. He’s got a couple different streets he usually parks the Camaro on, he stays over too often, doesn’t need gossip spreading.

This house always has an undercurrent of loneliness, Steve calls it depressing, Billy doesn’t disagree, it is. The disappointment of the failed happy family that slipped through the Harringtons fingers resides in every room, even Steve’s. On that thought Billy slams his car door shut, the sound of it echoes into the night and through the tall trees that surround the two story house. That thought adds a layer of guilt he feels for keeping Steve hanging about about Chicago.

He finds Steve out back sitting in a pool chair about as faraway from the pool as you can get, damn near backed up to the sliding glass door. The nightmares, all the fucked up shit with this thing called the Upside Down, Billy knows about all of it, learned about it last winter while being snowed in with Steve. A few days later Maxine had added some details that Steve had left out. Once the Chief learned that Billy knew he pulled him aside and made it clear that he wasn’t to telling anyone about anything. _You can’t say shit. Got it?_ Billy gets it.

This town has had literal monsters roaming a complex network of tunnels while most of its residents slept. The Chief of police’s daughter has superpowers, little miss Nancy Wheeler knows how to use of gun and going missing in the woods would have been a better option that what actually happened to Will Byers. Why the hell has Billy been dragging his feet on getting the fuck out of this town again? When did he become a chicken shit? 

Pretty boy’s head lulls back to look up at Billy, gives it a second letting his stare stretch out before he starts talking, skips a greeting all together, “Last week the reason my mom came home was to tell me one of the conditions of the divorce is that the house is sold, turns out my dad just keeps being the asshole that everyone knew he was going to be. No disappointment there.” His pretty eyes are made even darker by the night, Steve looks him up and down once before adding, “I guess it’s a good thing we’re moving to Chicago.”

Billy’s back hits the door frame with a a thud. After a moment he huffs out a breath and licks over his teeth. Mrs. Byers must have said something, given some sort of congratulations about the move or something. He leans in the door frame, tips his head back while getting a read, studying Steve from under his long eyelashes. Something is bothering pretty boy, something more than this. Steve’s gaze has drifts back to the pool, is looking at it like he is trying to solve a math problem.

“You want to tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Billy questions, the words come out gruff.

Without looking Steve reaches down for the beer by the leg of the chair, brings up the sweating can and offers it to Billy, turns to look at him before he says, “We’re going to need to break the pool. No way is some unsuspecting family buying this house with that portal to hell in working order.” There is something dangerous, something wild in Steve’s eyes. Billy’s seen it before, a few times. It’s fire.

This is not where Billy thought the conversation was going to lead but he can follow.He knows the truth about that Barbara Holland chick too, he doesn’t miss a beat. Reaches for the beer while saying, “We’re going to need a sledgehammer and to drain it.” Takes a long swig and swallows down the lukewarm liquid, bubbles kicking at his tongue as it goes down. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.Adds just to clarify. “Drain it first, sledgehammer it second.”

“Then move to Chicago.” Steve says, eyebrows drawn together in seriousness. It’s a statement but also a question.

“Then move to Chicago.” Billy echos, voice smooth.All that energy running under his skin that was threatening to burn him up, it fades, dies with a decision made.

Pain and caring live in the same house, are part of the same family. Billy has always know that there is risk that comes with letting Steve in. It’s a risk worth taking. “I love you, Harrington.” It’s hard to say, maybe one day it won’t be. The words bring Steve to him. He stands and walks over to Billy.

“I wouldn’t be moving to Chicago with you if you didn’t.” He says instead of saying _, I love you_ back. Billy is still not good at hearing those words, he is thankful that the other boy understands. It’s the craziest things having someone who understands.

They kiss, skin still holding the warmth of the day. Hands leave hot trails as they touch. They stay like that locked in embrace shamelessly making out in the doorway, kissing for the sake of kissing.

The open sliding glass door lets the breeze drift thorough the house helping to take the edge off of another hot night in early August. The television lights up the room is a hazy glow. The Best of John Belushi special is on instead of the usual Saturday Night Live rerun. Billy turned down the volume a while ago, the peaks of laugher can be heard over the fan that's blowing cool air across the room. Belushi is funny but he couldn’t hold their attention, not tonight.

Steve is passed out in his arms. The fan is aimed at them, the humming sound it makes mixes with the quiet sound of the television. Billy is this close to nodding off too. With their feet kicked up they sunk into the cushions of the couch hours ago.

He know how this night ends and how tomorrow starts. Last year it was a comfort that didn’t exist in his life. He was so angry. All those things he thought were weak, the things he sneered at, now that he has them, he knows he was lead by fear. Fear taught and learned, some of it he taught himself or ran with and that is the real kicker. But that's the past and he needs to put it to rest. 

Tonight they’ll take a cold shower together trying to cool a day’s worth of heat that their skin has soaked up, they won’t dry off because going to bed with still damp skin and wet hair is a trick for staying cool. They’ll trade blowjobs in the morning or maybe fuck if there is time. Billy will show up to his opening shift at the pool smelling like sex and Steve Harrington.

From where they are laying on the couch Billy can see the two of them reflected in the glass of the sliding backdoor. Can see the way pretty boy’s head has lulled to the side, dark mess of hair spilling onto his shoulder. Billy wraps his arms tighter around Steve, pulling the boy closer so he can whisper in his ear to wake him _,_ watches the movement reflected in the glass. Sees the reflection of two lovesick teenagers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating has gone up and the additional tags.
> 
> I've been working on this like crazy. I have mixed feelings about it but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> ps. this is un-betaed

The night is quiet, snow started falling an hour ago, small flakes that don’t look like they could amount to much have already covered Harrington’s backyard in a thin layer of white. Billy stands by the window, has yet to decide if he is going to smoke the cigarette in hand or not, rolls it between his fingers. The clock reads twenty to midnight. He can make a pack last longer than a week, give it to midnight and this pack will have made it two. He turns his eyes from the clock on the wall to the bed where Steve lays with a pillow in his arms and face buried into the mattress, he is passed out cold. The night before had been New Years Eve. Steve and him had done a real good job of ringing in the New Year, the hangover they each had this morning a prize courtesy of their hard work the night before.

Like the bigger parties of high school it had been at Tina’s house but this time it had drawn a mixture of college freshmen returned home for winter break and high school seniors eager to feel older than they were, envious of the kids who only a year before had been their classmates.

When they arrived Billy would have sworn he’d been thrown back in time if Steve hadn’t of been at his side.

He had known the stage; the trees out front had been toilet papered, the door left open by party goers spilling out onto the front yard to watch each other doing kegs stands, drunken cheers filling the night. The inside of the house had been toilet papered too, the living room turned dance floor packed with couples. All of it just like that first halloween, only no costumes.

Billy half expected to see himself, bare chest damp with beer, pushing through the crowd, wearing a sneer, eyes showing his hunger for a fight. He wondered what that self would think of him if they came face to face but you can’t find what doesn’t exist. He’s not the same as he was when he first arrived to Hawkins, not soaked in anger, desperate for control, doing keg stands to claim his territory and stake a reputation.

He had turned away from the memory, let Steve take the lead as they ventured farther into the party. 

The punch had been mostly boozy, the music loud and shitty. Tommy and his new redheaded girlfriend, a Carol look-alike had been there and so had Carol. Billy had drunkenly cackled at the drama of Carol one meeting Carol number two had created, eating up every moment. Huddled together in a corner of the kitchen that gave a good view of the unfolding events. Steve and him had agreed that Tommy and Carol would be back to banging before the _end of the year._ They had laughed at that until it hurt, drunkenly thought they were clever. Knowing they were right. The redhead and the freckled waste of space were made for each other.

Steve had tried to explain what was so funny to Jonathan Byers. Who Billy was pretty sure had only come into the kitchen for a beer. The shaggy haired boy’s eyes kept darting between him and Steve. Nodding along to the explanation he had looked confused as to why the interaction was even taking place. Their conversations usually didn’t stray very far from carting the kids around or music.

 _Listen, man - alright - so right now it’s 1985 - okay - and in like an hour - one hour, it’s going to be 1986… So Tommy and Carol Carol not the other Carol.…_ Steve had swayed on his feet, shoulder bumping into Billy’s.

When the princess arrived to rescue Byers, Billy had taken Steve’s drink from him and handed it to her. Figured at that point Nancy could use more and Steve less.

Billy remembers what it had felt like to have his arm thrown over pretty boy’s shoulder when the clock struck midnight. Caught in the middle of the living room, at the center of the count down in a sea of bodies, they had a moment to look at each other like they do when they’re alone. Billy smiled showed every one of his pearly whites, while Steve had run a hand through his hair and made boy next door eyes at him. One breath of a moment when everyone was cheering and streamers and confetti of every color were being thrown up into the air and noisemaker were going.

It had been a good night.

Billy is not in the mood to play games with himself, slides the window open an inch, small icy flakes drift in and melt as soon as they hit his bare skin. He tips his head back, curls brushing past his shoulders, he lights up, savoring the first drag, the way the nicotine hits. He watches the snow fall and cover the plot of grass that is now the focal point of the backyard.

The pool that haunted pretty boy’s dreams is long gone. Having met its end late in the summer by way of sledgehammer. The two of them did it over the course of a day, the damage needed to be unrepairable. Air hot and rich with concrete dust, they swung until their arms felt like Jell-O. They swung until Joan appeared late in the afternoon, standing at the edge of the deep end with the sun behind her, looking down at them like they had lost their minds. Her usual collected demeanor obviously shaken, she had literally been clutching her pearls.

The only explanation Steve had give as he squinted up at her was, _We don’t talk about this unless you and dad want to talk about all the government papers I signed_. _Which lets be honest you don’t - so let’s not._

Steve had turned away and swung another shattering blow. Billy’s gaze had lingered on her long enough to see his words had hit a nerve and her give a small jump at the sound of the sledgehammer cracking the concrete it hit.

When they finally came inside Joan had been sitting at the kitchen table with the yellow pages out and the calendar pulled down from the wall. She had been on the phone, _No, no - It’s an in ground pool…..yes, the deep end is 8 feet. As I said before my interest is in having it removed… some work has already been done on it…_

They left her to make her phone calls and went up stairs.

She keeps trying with Steve, making an effort in her own way. Billy knows it’s not lost on pretty boy what his mom is trying at. That it counts but there are a lot of years filled with a lot of shit to get past.

The house goes to the new owner in a week. Billy and Steve leave for Chicago the day after tomorrow. Joan already left for the city the day after Christmas, moved into her new apartment. Before she had headed out she gave them the phone number and address for her new place on a piece of stationary with her name embossed at the top.

 _Once the two of your are settled in I’d like for the three of us to go out to a nice lunch but please do call if you need anything before then. I mean anything, I don’t mind._ She had said it while pulling on her gloves. Delicate fingers pulled at navy leather. Her politeness and elegance Billy has come to realize is a fortress of sorts. Keeping everyone out and her in. He thinks she must know it and that’s why she keeps trying but she is still not sure how to break free of herself.

This ghost of a house is almost empty, most rooms have nothing in them at this point. Joan insisted the two of them take whatever they wanted, they didn’t want much. The house isn’t a sentimental home, the only things coming with them are practical. Kitchen table and chairs, those kind of things. The rest was donated or taken by Steve’s dad.

It’s a strange last look at the house, wandering around big empty rooms and long hallways after midnight. He pulled on a sweatshirt before leaving Steve’s room. He is glad he did, this house has too many large windows for the furnace to compete with on a cold night like this one.Billy opens and closes doors, making his way from room to room, doesn’t bother to turn on lights as he goes, the little bit of moon light reflecting off the snow enough to go by. When he reaches a long dark windowless hallway he reaches out, finger tips brushing the wall as he goes.

If someone had told him last winter when Steve and him were snowed in together how much time he would end up spending in this house, that he would have a key to it,he would have snapped back that they were full of shit, gotten in their face looking for a fight.

It’s not the key or the house, it’s Steve, it’s being part of someone’s life like this. There are still times where it feels like he doesn’t know how to do it, can make him feel like an imposter. That feeling makes him mean, he’s has to be aware of it. Reminds himself what they have is real. That he is real.

Once summertime hit Billy stayed most nights at Harrington’s house. Susan never questioned the amount of nights he stayed here, it never made his room at Cherry Lane any less his. She was true to her word, didn’t kick him out when he turned eighteen, made him his favorite kind of cake and didn’t make a big deal about it. Kept it simple. It had been her, Max and Steve unceremoniously standing around the kitchen counter watching him blow out eighteen candles on a sheet cake with chocolate frosting. Max had hummed 'happy birthday' and Steve hand done a drum roll on the countertop while he blew out the candles. Anything more and it would have been too much. 

If Joan’s elegance is a fortress then so much of Billy’s preening has been armor. The truth is he doesn’t like to be the center of attention, at a party sure but for things like his birthday it makes him uncomfortable in his own skin. He’ll soak up the cheers and applause after a keg stand and enjoy the hell out of it but don’t sit him down and sing happy birthday to him and think he’s going to be happy about it. 

He made sure to eat dinner with Maxine and Susan a few times a week. Most his money went towards saving up for the move, when he could swing it he’d help out with little things, pay a bill or buy groceries. Take the list off the refrigerator and make a quick run to the store. Susan would always thank him and tell him what night she would be making something he liked, he always showed and stayed those nights.

Sometime after that first winter in Hawkins Billy stopped thinking of Maxine as his stepsister and started thinking of her as his sister. She is still a shitbird half the time but BIlly’s not as angry as he use to be.

Before the start of the school year, one warm evening at dusk, when it was just him and Max eating ice cream sandwiches on the steps of the covered front porch she finally asked about Steve. He had been waiting for it, knew it was coming eventually. 

_Is the reason you stay over so much at Steve’s because you're dating him?_

Almost all three months of summer had passed, she looked older, more grown than she had at the start, had taking to wearing her red hair up in a ponytail and sometime lipgloss, which he only gave her shit for once. He realized then he was going to miss her. Of all the fucked up shit Neil did, he did something right by marrying her mom. There was a layer of guilt with that thought, when the good can’t be separated from the bad. He knows living with Neil did something to both her and Susan, that it wasn’t exactly paradise, far from it.

_Yeah._

_And you’re in love with him?_

_Yeah… But Maxine this isn’t something you can go talking about._ He had said both things because they were true.

The apartment waiting for them in Chicago is two bedrooms because less would look like more. What Steve and him have, there is a fine line of how to keep it safe and how to live it.

 _You don’t have to worry I won't say anything._ She had looked him in the eye when she said it, no longer afraid - somewhere, somehow things got mended between them.

_What do you call each other?_

_What?_ He had asked around a mouthful of ice cream not following her question. 

A mischievous smile spread, she leaned into his space with eyes dancing and had asked, _You know, like does Steve call you his boyfriend?_

_You’re a goddamn shitbird. Did you know that?_

The main bedroom is completely empty. The ceiling is vaulted. The heating bill must have been sky high for this place. The light from the moon washes in through all the tall windows, making it bright in comparison to the other rooms he has wandered through. Heavy furniture left imprints in the plush carpet, those imprints a map of how the room was once set up. Where the bed had been and nightstands amongst other things.

This room has no meaning, Steve’s bedroom is the only room in the house that ever mattered. Billy roams in and out of the walk-in closet then to the bathroom with its his and her sinks in matching colors and a Jacuzzi bathtub. It’s all too much an excess that Billy could never bring himself to like or need and would be quicker to judge if it wasn’t pretty boy’s home.

As he is coming out of the bathroom Steve walks into the room sleepily shuffling his feet, arms crossed over his chest and eyes heavy lidded. Even in his half awake state he is pretty. The attraction Billy feels for him always there.

Coming closer he asks with a sleep soaked voices, “Hargrove, what are you doing?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Billy reaches out to pull him into his arms, manhandles the half awake boy. Steve’s body is sleep warm, he works a hand up under his t-shirt to touch skin, finger tips traveling to lazily run from the dip in his lower back up to the space between shoulders blades and back down again.

He shuffles closer, “So you’re just wondering the empty house? That’s not creepy at all.” Steve’s lips are at his neck, mumbles the words out, breath teasing.

“Are you going miss it?” Billy asks because as little as he thinks of this house it’s not his place to judge how Steve feels about it.

Steve slowly pulls back so he can look Billy in the eye. “What? The house?” With furrowed brows Steve scoffs, “God no.” Finishes with, “I like where we’re going better. Why don’t you?”

“No, I do.” Holds Steve’s gaze while he says it, tucks a lock of dark wayward hair behinds his ear lets his finger tips brush all the way down his neck.

They stand like that for a while, arms wrapped around each other. The left open door to the walk-in closet has a mirror hung on it, shows Billy what him and Steve look like. How they fit. It’s such a good fucking fit

Billy wakes to the sound of the city slowly starting to stir, a car door slams shut in the distance and a lonely truck rattles by. There is fresh snow on the ground. It only took one winter of living away from California to learn how fresh white powder muffles noise, and slush amplifies it. The snowflakes that had fallen yesterday had fallen fast, fat flakes clustered together made the cardboard moving boxes damp as they were carried the short distance between the moving van and the glass front door.

They’re on the third floor of a five story red brick building. The two hour drive from Hawkins to Chicago took almost three. On account of the roads, Hopper, Dustin andMaxine hadn’t hung around after helping to get everything from the moving van and the Camaro up the three flights of steep stairs and into the two bedroom apartment.

Billy had stood in the snow, curls collecting falling flakes, didn’t know how to say goodbye to Maxine, so he did. She had been sitting in the moving van with the window rolled down, wearing the flannel lined denim jacket he had gotten her for Christmas. The Chief and Dustin stood around on the other side of the van, talking to Harrington, having their own goodbye and good luck. Max had looked down at him, chin wobbling, like she was fighting crying. So he spared her and if he’s being honest himself, made it quick.

_You got our number right? Call when you get back to Hawkins so I don’t have to worry. Okay?_

She had given a small smile and a nod of the head. Her voice broke when she said she would. The first time the phone rang in his and Steve’s place it was four hours later and it was Max.

The radiator shakes as it kicks on, coming to life to warm the room. Steve's and his shared body heat is trapped by the thick blankets that covers them while the air in the is cool. Pretty boy is always slow to wake. Dark tuffs of hair made wild by sleep fan out on the pillow, has an arm draped over Billy. He lets him sleep, the boxes that need to be unpacked aren’t going anywhere.

Once Billy is a wake there is no going back, his mind fires on all cylinders from the moment he opens his eyes. Steve comes out of sleep like he’s being pulled from the abyss. Movements sluggish, pretty eyes fighting to focus, slowly blinking away sleep. The only time it’s ever any different is if he wakes from one of his nightmares. The nightmares don’t really happen anymore which is good because he’s jittery as fuck and touchy as hell after one. Billy usually has to give him space, which honestly he is fine with, is not the cuddly short of boyfriend and wouldn’t want to with Steve when he is in that state, anyways. Prickly like a goddamn pear.

Of the two rooms the one they chose for their bedroom is at the back of the apartment it is the biggest of the two. The wall with the windows is floor to ceiling exposed red brick. The person who lived here before them had gone to the trouble of hanging clear Christmas lights up along the top of that wall. The lights still work, warm glow made warmer coming off of the bricks. Laying in bed together last night Steve suggest they should get more lights to hang. He made an off handed comment about the lights being useful, could let them know if trouble was coming. There are certain things that Billy has learned not to question or just let slide. He had said, they can do that but maybe just one strand more, one to hang from the crown molding above the bed.

Steve and him can do whatever they want. This place is theirs to make their own. In a way it frees each of them from their past, finally able to have a place to call home that’s not someone else version of what that is.

For right now the only things in this room is the bed, dresser and opened boxes of clothing and bedding stacked in the corner.

Steve pulls in a deep breath, it’s a waking breath, the kind that means he has surfaced. Billy rolls to his side and props himself up on an elbow so he can look down at Steve who is blinking up at him, sleepy smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Billy kisses his mouth, curls falling forward as he ducks his head to catch Steve’s lips. A sleep heavy arm drapes over him bringing him down.

Billy was going for a simple good morning kiss but he can follow Steve’s lead, is happy to make it more. The kisses become greedy as Billy works a hand under Steve's back, holding him closer. Greedy and hungry like they didn’t do this last night. Hadn't shared open mouth kisses in the kitchen that had led to dry humping on the couch, that led to fucking in the bedroom. Items of clothing having been left from room to room mapping out how their first night in the apartment went. 

The thing is, it always leads to Billy fucking Steve. He always tops. 

He knows they’ve both have had the same thought, can’t know you’re a bottom if you’ve never topped. But it’s more than that, he can’t pin what he is feeling on that alone.

After his first and only time time he convinced himself it’s not something he wanted. He had been desperate to feel some sort of control over his life and letting another guy fuck him had been far from the answer. Only made his feel less in control. Got fucking angry at himself afterwards, went looking for trouble and found it. Neil had never been the wiser, couldn’t see the raw shame Billy wore through the cuts and scrapes from the fist fight he had purposefully gotten into. After a lecture about the wrongs of fighting, to drive home his point Neil had backhanded him. A winning example of his dad’s parenting style.

Pulling back from the kiss Billy’s heart is drumming in his ears. Steve’s looking up at him plainly confused and that confusion adds to Billy’s for some reason so he pushes back farther, sheets sliding to his waist as he sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. There is anger bubbling under his skin, Nostril flaring he breathes through it, having learned that nine times out of ten his anger takes more from him that it gives to him.

Steve props himself up on his for arms, looks Billy over and then asks, “So are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

There is no dancing around this. Billy doesn’t tip toe into conversations and he’s not about to start, not with this one. He casts a look over to Steve who is sitting all the way up now with his back against the wall, he has his arms crossed over his bare chest. It’s not defensive, it’s something he does when he is serious, adding to the weight of the look he is giving Billy.

Billy licks over his teeth and scoffs, not at Steve but at himself. He has to shake a scowl off his face that’s not meant for anyone but himself, doesn’t want pretty boy thinking it was for him. He finally says“It’s been along time since I bottomed but I’ll bottom for you if what you want.”

Steve gawks at him in confusion for all of three seconds. The answer is in the flicker of heat that sparks in Steve’s eyes, the way his eye brows raise. It’s all there clear as day before he tries to reign it in.

Billy’s eyes narrow, “Do you want to fuck me, it is a _yes_ or _no_ question, Steve. Let’s not make it any more complicated than that.”

Arms uncrossing, his hands drop into his lap, palms facing up, he studies them before looking up. “Yes, yeah - I do but like Billy - what do you want?” Steve asks with an openness that has worked its way into his pretty dark eyes. He bites at his lips, while waiting for Billy's answer. 

Apprehension is tainted by want. Billy tries to look past his shame, knows if Steve is soft with him he’ll turn mean and thinks pretty boy realizes it too because he’s giving Billy space, doesn’t make a move to do anything different. 

Billy reaches over the side of the bed, grabs the bottle of lube off the floor. Pauses to state. “I’m going to open myself up.” Voices carrying an edge he can’t shake.

"Oh - You mean now. Like right now." Steve mutters and nods like he is catching up to Billy. 

Steve is already getting hard, he looks aways from Billy when he notices him looking. A blush spreading across his cheeks but he looks frustrated, like he doesn’t want his body giving away how much he wants this. Holding back for Billy. 

The sheets rustle as Billy makes his way up to straddle Steve, knees bracketing his hips. 

Arousal, shame and frustration course through Billy’s veins, he lets his focus narrow on coating his fingers in a generous amount of ice cold lube, made cold by being on the floor. Steve's dark eyes watch his hands work. 

Billy keeps raised up on his knees, one hand braces against the wall beside pretty boy’s head while with the other he reaches around. The lube is cold and his rim is hot.

Steve is watching him with an intensity that feels like touch but he keep his hands to himself. He is not seeing the way Billy’s fingers play over his rim, getting it smeared in lube first before pushing a finger in but he knows, mind must be coloring in the image like a paint by number. His pupils are blown, the look of want growing in his eyes and that does something for Billy, makes some of the shame he feels fall away giving room for more pleasure.

Billy’s hips starts rocking, the motion helping his finger in the pursuit of loosening himself up. From under long lashes Billy keeps his gaze trained on Steve, who’s head has lulled back agains the wall, eyes cast up watching him in return.

His fingers flex on the wall, blunt fingernails scrapping the paint as he adds a second finger, pushes into his own tight heat. That hand on the wall, he depends on that hand for support because the, _Jesus_ that ghosted past Steve’s lips when he realizes Billy had upped it to two could have knocked him over.

Inside, he hasn’t touched inside of himself for such a long time, grits his teeth to keep from moaning. Fingers pump in earnest, lube slicking their way.

Panting. They’re both panting. Billy looks back down past Steve’s eyes, his thick red cock bobs heavy with its own weight, precome running from the piss slit to dribble down to Steve’s stomach below, were his own large fully erect cock lays. It kicks when Steve realizes were Billy’s eyes have landed, shiny liquid seeping from it too.

Heat is taking over, their eyes lock. Billy’s mouth is talking for him can hear himself telling Steve to lube up his fingers.

Steve questions with wide eyes, “Are you sure?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Billy shots back, with a rough, breathless voice. Ready for Steve's touch. 

Billy’s leans all the way over Steve, forehead pressed into the wall. The hand he was using to open himself up with has a white knuckled grip on Steve's shoulder. His abdomen muscles jump at the pressure of Steve’s fingers pushing into his hole. Steve keeps his other hand flat on the small of Billy’s back while his fingers explore the inside of him. Feeling around and touching before thrusting in and out.

Lips brush low on Billy’s sternum as Steve mutters words he can’t make out into his skin. He pants opened mouthed and wet against the wall, needing more of its support as Steve’s fingers scissor inside of him. Nails bite into flesh as his hand pushes down hard on Steve’s shoulder, back arching and head falling back as he moans.

Opens his mouth to pant, pleasure ricocheting through his body when Steve’s fingers find his prostate. He fingers it, giving Billy a taste of his own medicine. Billy has always been ruthless when touching pretty boy's sweet spot. Playing with him from the inside. It makes sense that he would touch Billy in the way he has been touch, the only way he knows. It's a heady realization. 

Between kisses they manhandle each other around the bed. Sheets and blankets get pushed off the side and fall to the floor. Steve lays back flat against the mattress and Billy takes his place on top of him, straddling his hips. Everything on Billy is thick, he knows Steve likes it that way, so he lets him touch, big hands run over Billy’s ass and muscular thighs, fingertip kneading in. Billy touches at the pendant that was once his that now rest close to Steve's heart.

Breaking a kiss Billy reaches around, appreciates the stuttered breath that escapes Steve’s lips as he takes him in hand. He tighten his grip, squeezes. Steve’s hand land on his hips, cock trying to kick in his grip.

He gasps and swears at the tight penetration, having to work himself onto Steve’s cock. He can feel the muscles in his thighs flexing as he slowly rocks back and forth working himself down, working Steve deeper inside of him. The actions is pushing dirty noise out of both of them, half spoken curses, grunts and moans.

For a second Billy looks for the shame but he can’t find it. Having Steve fully seated inside of him leaves no room for it. All he can do now is move. Both of their pleasure in his control, he leans back, reaches behind to plants his hands on Steve’s thighs to steady himself.

And it’s good. The sensation of being speared on his cock, full up.

Steve’s voice cuts through, pleasure tainted by concern he asks “You like the feel of it like this, don’t you? Right?”

“…yeah.” It takes a couple seconds to respond, he’s found the way to move and roll his hips so that spot inside of him is constantly being stimulated. Steve’s got his hands on his hips and they’re not trying to keep him down or in place, no, they move with him as he does slow grinding circles. Fucking himself on the other boy’s dick. Billy finally manages to open his eyes, head tips to the side, looks at Steve through the curls that have fallen in front of his face. Lips slightly parted as he pants. Steve doesn’t shy away from looking at him, has had eyes on him the entire time he’s pretty sure. For his staring he give an apologetic half smile to Billy, it’s all boy next.

The pace builds between them, the testing rolls of Billy’s hips loose their teasing under current and develop into a true rhythm one that Steve can match. His hold tightens on Billy’s hips, feet planted on the bed for leverage. The first hard thrust from Steve has Billy’s eyes rolling back into his head, they stay there for awhile as Steve pounds into him and he gets lost in the pleasure. 

Billy’s balls are pulling up tight, this feels too good to last long, they are on borrowed time. Looking down at Steve isn’t doing himself any favors. Pretty boy looks like his is in heaven. Head thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down a moan. The image makes Billy push himself back onto Steve’s cock with more force. Fucks himself hard on it. Gets his own cock slapping Steve’ taut stomach. Gets those moans and whines to break past those pretty lips.

Fingers move from his hips to ghost up his back and lead him down, to bring him in for a kiss. Then another and another. His body relaxes into Steve, movements slowing but not loosing any fever. The kisses slow and focused, without rush. Billy breaks the kiss breathing heavily, eyes lock with Steve’s in interest when he feels Steve’s hand moving down his back, down until his fingers are touching where they are joined. To feel himself move in and out of Billy, to feel how Billy’s rim is pulled by his thickness. Fuck.

Billy holds tight to the nape of Steve’s neck, other hand reaching around to rest over Steve’s to feel what he is feeling. His cock kicks between their bellies, the feeling, there aren’t words for it, it goes straight to his blood and marrow.

“- Billy- I “

His heart beat thunders, mind sparks, knows what words Steve is going to say to him. He is never good at hearing them. He answers the unfinished words on a broken moan, "I - know, you know- I do."

He push up, with one hand braces himself on Steve’s shoulder for leverage,going for his cock with the other but Steve beats him to it.

“I need to come” His voices sounds broken to his own ears.

Steve nods, dark tuffs of hair wild. 

The pleasure is circular, what feels good for Billy feels good for Steve. They’re moving for each other as much as for themselves.

Billy is shaking apart, groaning and grunting as Steve stroke him off while his insides pull tight. The sensation is overwhelmingly, a double edged sword of pleasure, he breaks on it and spills. No shame to taste. 

Steve breaks after him, soft long moan filling his ears and one final thrust delivering a load of come deep inside of him.

It's not easy to untangle their limbs, bodies too satisfied to be willed into movement. So they lay there and talk about their future in the simplest of terms, first breakfast, then cleaning and more unpacking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are lovely and readers are cool!

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always fun! Let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading!


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